


Bleach and Fabric Softener

by IrishNamesandPaperPlanes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU college fic, And More Fluff, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-18
Updated: 2013-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-25 22:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/643684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IrishNamesandPaperPlanes/pseuds/IrishNamesandPaperPlanes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry’s roommate Louis had managed to turn their washing machine into something from <i>The Exorcist</i>, forcing the boys to use a local Laundromat. However, after coming across a blonde boy with blue eyes and a smile that made his insides squirm, Harry didn’t think it would be too bad.</p>
<p>Song: Eat that up, it's good for you by Two Door Cinema Club</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleach and Fabric Softener

Louis and Harry had been living together for a little over a year. They had met the first day of freshman year when they had passed in the halls on move in day. They hadn’t really spared much thought for the other at first, but after a few awkward trips up and down the stairs together – both lugging boxes and duffel bags and zip locks full of more toothpaste than they could possibly ever need – Louis had deemed it reasonable to move on from polite nods and mumbled ‘heys’ and have a real conversation. 

Both boys had quickly realized that they had virtually everything in common and made the mutual decision to become the best of friends. They were assigned to the same hall, Louis’ room being three doors down from Harry’s, and spent most of their time together; playing video games and eating junk food and scheming new ways to mess with Harry’s roommate Liam (who didn’t really mind because he thought that it was all good fun and he never complained about Louis invading their room even when he was trying to study). 

After the start of the second semester, when Louis found himself bunking with Harry and Liam practically every night – his roommate had decided to get a girlfriend and they didn’t really care if Louis was in the room of not – both boys had decided that it would only make sense for them to find housing off campus. It would be cheaper and more enjoyable and seemed like a suitably adult thing to do. Louis also raved about how, with their own place, he could bring his girlfriend Eleanor over whenever, and for however long, he pleased without having to deal with their cow of a dorm supervisor. 

Harry didn’t mind this, as he quite liked Eleanor. She went to school with them and actually shared a few classes with Harry. He had discovered within the first ten minutes of meeting her that she was sweet and charming and witty in a way that complimented Louis fabulously and he just couldn’t help but befriend her. 

Not long after that, Louis had come sprinting down the hall, catching Harry just as he was leaving to take his English final, yelling about how he had found a place – two bedrooms, kitchen, living room, one and a half bath, really all things that comprised a normal house, but had Louis in an utter tizzy anyway – and how it was perfect because it was only a fifteen minute walk from school and cheap enough that between the two of them they could afford it no problem. 

That weekend the two of them had gone to see it. It was small and a little run down and squished between two larger houses that made it seem even smaller and dingier than it already was, but they took it anyways, paying the landlord – a sweet, if not slightly loopy, old lady – in cash for the first month and began the move with the help of Liam and a promise of beer and pizza after they were done. 

Living with Louis hadn’t quite been how Harry had imagined it. Neither were overly fond of doing things like cleaning or getting the mail or taking out the trash, but they made it work even if it all got a bit maddening at times. Often times Harry found himself on his knees scrubbing out the tub because even he couldn’t stand _that_ level of disgusting or picking up after Louis had whirl-winded through the kitchen before running off to class, but he didn’t mind too much. That was just how Lou was – crazy and delightful and always on the go. 

Harry even figured it would be good for him: becoming a bit more responsible. 

Knowing this, Harry shouldn’t have been too surprised when he came home after school to his feet sinking into the sopping carpet or witnessing what appeared to be bubbles frothing out from the archway to the kitchen. 

“Lou?” Harry chucked his bag at the couch, hiked up his pants with both hands, and tip toeing his way to the kitchen. “Lou, what the hell?” 

“Harry, don’t come in here.” Harry completely ignored that as he crossed the threshold to the kitchen, green eyes widening at the absolute torrent that was coming from the laundry room and flooding their small kitchen. Louis’ head – hair plastered to his forehead and a guilty frown on his lips – popped around the corner. “I said don’t come in here.” 

“The hell happened?” Harry dropped his hands, water leeching up his trousers almost immediately, and rushed upstream and into the other room because, who was he kidding, he was going to get soaked either way. 

Harry didn’t know what he was expecting to see, but Louis perched on top of their washer – which was shaking rather violently and still spitting out surges of water – trying in vain to clamp it shut and soaked from head to toe, hadn’t been it. 

“It just,” Louis gestured with one hand, head rocking vaguely from side to side, “exploded.” His lip twitched in what was probably supposed to be a smile, jumping slightly when more water made it past him and erupted on to the floor. 

“Turn it off!” Harry splashed across the floor, hands sliding along behind the machine and yanking the plug from the wall. The shaking stopped, the water inside splashing idly as the machine wound down. 

“Oh,” Louis breathed. There was a slight crease between his furrowed brows. “I didn’t think of that.” 

There was a moment of silence between them where all Harry could do was look at him incredulously, plug still in hand, and Louis just gave him an awkward smile, trying not to look as stupid as he felt. 

Finally Harry sighed, dropping the plug and sloshing his way past his best friend and out of the room. 

“Where are you going?” Louis followed him out, his own shoes making horrible squishing noises with every step. 

“To the store, to buy a mop,” Harry replied from the entryway. He had paused for a moment to wring out his shirt. Louis took a quick look around before nodding his head, apologetic smile on his lips. 

“I’ll come with you.” 

\--xx--

They hadn’t been able to afford another washing machine to replace the broken one, or as Louis liked to put it, _the one that had decided go all Emily Rose on them_. They had been lucky to find the old one at a garage sale. It had looked pretty banged up and Harry had had to shove a magazine he had stolen from the dentist’s office under one of the corners to stop it from rocking every time they used it, but it had been reliable up until a couple weeks ago. 

With limited funds and a sympathetic but ultimately unhelpful landlady, the two found themselves employing the services of a Laundromat a couple blocks over. They took turns going, Harry going one week and Louis the next. Louis had offered to do it every week, but Harry honestly didn’t blame Louis for the fact that their apartment had basically become the splash zone at sea world and decided it was only fair to share the responsibility. 

\--xx-- 

It was Thursday when Harry decided to trek the couple of blocks to do the laundry. He owned a car but couldn’t afford the gas and saved it for matters that were a bit more pressing than washing his briefs. 

It was late, about eleven, but the streets were well lit and it was warm: not a bad way to end a Thursday. Louis usually did these kinds of things on the weekend, but Harry preferred to reserve his weekends for things that he actually enjoyed (even if Louis drank the last of the milk or Eleanor used up the last of his shampoo – just because he used coconut scented shampoo did not mean she could help herself to it – it would all be ignored until Monday rolled around). 

Hiking up the bag, he picked up the pace, wanting to make it back home at a relatively decent hour since he did have class tomorrow. 

The place was small with only two rows of washer and dryers each. He had only been there twice before: once early in the morning and the other time at about the same time as this visit. Both times it had been pretty deserted. 

Therefore he was a bit surprised when he walked in to see people roaming about, looming protectively over their machines. The row of washers on the left wall featured a girl with legs like twigs and hair a nest of color and volume wrapped around a guy who towered over her and had the shoulders of a linebacker. He was also sporting a rather impressive amount on ink on his neck. 

Occupying the machines next to them was a mother who was simultaneously loading her machine and rocking a baby on her hip; she kept throwing not so subtle glances over at the couple beside her, disdain written in the tilt of her lips. 

The other row, on the right hand wall, seemed to be taken up by a boy with blonde hair and large white headphones who was sprawled on his back across the machines in what Harry could only describe as quite a casual manner. Harry moved over to him, uncertain whether or not he should disturb the boy.

He hovered over him for a moment before his hand reached out to prod gently at his arm. Suddenly he was looking into eyes that were the bluest blue he’d ever seen and he momentarily forgot why he was there. Then the blonde was sitting up on his elbows, headphones falling from his ears to loop loosely around his neck. He raised a slim eyebrow in question. 

“Um, you using all of these?” Harry gestured vaguely to the machines, still locked in on the other boys eyes and how incredibly, impossibly blue they were. 

“No,” the Irish lilt to his voice did not go unnoticed to the brunette, “that one’s free.” He pointed a slim, pale finger to the washer at his feet, blinking up at Harry as the brunette found his bearings and managed a polite ‘thank you’ before stumbling off to his machine. 

Harry made it a point to not look at the blonde as he dumped his clothes, shirts and pants and trousers tumbling into his basket. He found it quite annoying how incredibly dumb and speechless the blonde made him. 

“Are you washing all that together?” the boy asked from his position spread across the row – incredible, blue eyes still watching Harry. 

“Um, yes?” He had a sudden feeling that he was doing it all wrong and embarrassing himself. 

The Irishman laughed a little choppy chuckle that made Harry’s insides do tiny flips and turns. “You’re not gonna separate it, then?” Harry glanced down at his clothes; suddenly remembering something his mother had said ages ago that was along the same lines. He shrugged, which got another laugh out of the blonde. 

Green eyes ghosted down, noting the four machines the blonde had occupied. “You’re using all of those?”

The other boy nodded, hopping down from his perch. Harry noted that he was a good few inches shorter than himself, with narrow shoulders and a slender waist.   
“Yup. I’ve got one for whites, one for colors, one for delicates, and one for things like jeans and socks and whatnot.” He seemed rather proud of himself as he listed off his varying loads, blue eyes bright. 

Harry felt mildly impressed, even if it was over something as simple as doing the laundry properly. 

The blonde turned to him, a sincere smile on his lips and hip resting against the bank of machines looking incredibly casual and comfortable. Harry couldn’t help but wish that he was feeling that casual. 

“I’m Niall, by the way.” They shook hands, the blonde grinning up at the brunette. 

“Harry.” Niall nodded, fingers playing absently with the cord of his headphones. 

“Well, Harry, I’m almost done here. How about you wait another five minutes so you can separate your clothes properly?” He smiled this cute, endearing and brilliant smile that had Harry nodding along before he could even properly understand what was going on. 

Niall helped him separate his colors and his whites which should have been odd – he wouldn’t normally let a complete stranger rifle through his dirty underwear – but was actually quite fun since the blonde had a running commentary going on about when it’s appropriate to use bleach and which fabric softeners were the best. It seemed as though Niall had a slight obsession with detergents when he went off on a tangent for a good couple minutes after they were done. 

After switching Niall’s things to the dryers and loading Harry’s, both boys found themselves resting on a bench in the middle of the room. 

“I haven’t seen you around here before, you new to town?” Niall asked. 

Harry gave a quick shake of his head, his own easy smile finally having settled on his face. “Naw, my roommate broke our washing machine about a month back. Haven’t been able to get a new one.” Green eyes swept over the other boy, taking him in, cheesy grin on his face. “Why, you come here often?” 

Niall outright giggled at that, nodding his head. “Yeah, every week for the last three months. I recently moved out here and I’ve been rooming with a friend. I can’t really afford to pay him the proper amount of rent though so I try and help out whenever I can. Doing his laundry just kinda became part of the routine.” 

“What’d you move out here for?” Harry drawled, his eyes alight with interest.

“Transferred to a local specialty college. I’m studying sound engineering.” Niall shifted, his body facing Harry and his knee brushing against the curly haired boy’s thigh. Harry found that he didn’t mind. “What about you? You going to school?” 

“Yeah. I go to the college a couple miles east of here. I’m a lit major.” Harry did a quick scan of the room, noticing that while the mother and child were still present over by the row of dyers, the PDA pair had disappeared. There was a lull in conversation where Harry could hear the music spilling out from the large white headphones resting against Niall’s collarbone. “What are you listening to?” 

Niall took a moment, ear twitching down toward his headphones before answering. “Two Door Cinema Club. They’re really good. You heard of ‘em?” 

Harry shook his head and before he could so much as blink Niall was shoving his headphones over his ears, disturbing his curls and wearing an easy grin despite the fact that they were now close enough to feel when the other was breathing. 

They spent the rest of the night like that; Niall raving about everything from music to food and sitting close enough so that their arms would touch and their knees would knock. He even stayed until Harry was done, his own clothes having been done and folded a good hour before.

Harry walked Niall to the bus stop down the street, crooked smile on his lips and laundry slung over his shoulder. The bus pulled up and Niall clamored on board, his own basket resting against his hip. He turned to Harry, blue finding green and smile matching Harry’s own. 

“’Til next time, Harry.” And then he was gone. Harry made the walk home in a daze, unable to shake his good mood even when he found Louis and Eleanor asleep on the couch, popcorn spilt and trash littering the floor. 

\--xx--

Louis couldn’t help but be a little perplexed at his best friend’s behavior over the next few weeks. Harry had suddenly taken the responsibility of doing all of the laundry, even going so far as protesting when Louis tried to do it himself. Harry always seemed happiest on Thursdays and Fridays, smile unable to leave his lips and a little glaze over his grassy eyes. 

About a week or two into this new arrangement found Harry attached to his phone, constantly texting and giggling to himself in a way that Louis found simultaneously adorable and disturbing. He couldn’t help but think that Harry had met someone, but when asked all the curly haired boy would do is shrug and smile some more. 

Eleanor and Liam both told him to leave it alone because if Harry was happy then it was a good thing and he shouldn’t be prodding at it, so he did, even if it still bugged him. 

So when Harry’s smile dropped and his eyes dimmed when Louis brought home a brand new washer – it was used and he had found it on Craig’s list, but he had done a test run at the guys house to make sure it worked so it was new to _them_ – it was the last straw. 

“Okay, seriously, what is up with you? You’ve been acting weird for weeks now.” Louis crossed his arms, confused frown on his face. “You’ve been acting like a moody schoolgirl in love.” He wasn’t even mildly surprised by the flush that adorned his best friends cheeks. 

“I have not!” Harry exclaimed, offended by the comparison. So he and Niall had been texting and yeah he couldn’t stop thinking about him and yes maybe he quite fancied the idea of hold his hand and kissing him and often found himself day dreaming about just that, but he was not acting like a schoolgirl in love. That would just be embarrassing. 

“You have too, Haz. Now, are you finally going to tell me about it or am I going to have to lock you in the house and not let you go out on your little rendezvous tonight?” Harry looked mildly panicked at that and Louis couldn’t help the little smirk that curved his lips. “Yeah, don’t think I didn’t notice how happy you get every Thursday.” He pulled himself up next to Harry who was already sitting cross-legged on the cheap kitchen counters. “Now spill.” 

Harry took a moment to pick at his jeans before replying. “I met someone at the Laundromat. He’s blonde and Irish and amazing and he has the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.” The little smile was back on his lips as he brushed a hand through his curls, clearly embarrassed. 

Louis couldn’t help but think he looked absolutely adorable. Slinging an arm over his shoulder, he ruffled the younger boys hair, grinning down at him. “So have you asked him out yet?” 

Harry flushed even more at that, shaking his head. 

“You mean to tell me that even though you’re completely smitten with him, you have yet to ask him on a real date? Possibly to somewhere just the tiniest bit more interesting and romantic than some dingy Laundromat?” He gave his friend an appraising glance before delivering a quick smack to the side of his head. “What the hell is wrong with you?” 

Harry spluttered, hand massaging his head and sending a quick glare over to his friend. “We just met, Lou, I don’t want to scare him away.” 

“Please,” Louis rolled his eyes, voice laced with sarcasm, “by the amount that you’ve been texting each other I highly doubt that you showing up naked in his bed would scare him away.” Louis didn’t think it was possible, but Harry blushed even more.

“Shut up, Lou,” he mumbled, voice muffled by the hand splayed over his face. Louis didn’t speak for a bit, just leaned back into the wall and let his friend collect himself. “I just don’t want to mess it up.” Green eyes looked up, searching the ceiling like he could find all the answers written on it. 

“You’re not gonna mess it up. Just ask him to get coffee or something simple like that.” He bumped the other boy’s shoulder, earning a shoulder bump and smile in return. “I’m sure he’s just been waiting for you to man up and ask him out.” 

“Fine,” Harry huffed, jumping down from the counter and sticking an accusatory finger at Louis’ chest. “But if he turns me down then expect to wake up tomorrow with no eyebrows.” 

Later that night Harry was walking to the Laundromat, bag of clothes over his shoulder and two glass coke bottles gripped in his other hand. He had had to visit three different stores to find them, but he remember Niall mentioning how he loved them and it was all worth it if the blonde smiled at him. 

He wasn’t surprised to see the other boy already there, perched atop the machines like he always seemed to be. His blonde hair was messed up in just the right way as he swayed slightly to the music from his headphones: eyes closed and lips mouthing words Harry couldn’t hear. 

Harry set his bag on the floor before reaching out to tug the headphones down. Niall was smiling before he even opened his eyes, a greeting falling from his lips in that tantalizing Irish accent that Harry couldn’t help but love. 

“Brought you this.” Harry handed him a coke bottle, fingertips brushing in the exchange. “Thought you might like it.” 

Niall took it happily, twisting off the cap to take a quick swig. “Thanks Harry. I didn’t think you’d remember that I like these.” 

“I remember everything about you.” The words were out before he even noticed, his heart stuttering for a moment in complete mortification that he had actually said that. He thought for sure things were going to turn awkward, but Niall only chuckled, fingers caressing the frosty surface of the bottle. 

“Same here, mate,” he admitted. Niall refused to look at Harry, but he figured that was fine since he didn’t particularly want Niall to see his no doubt dopey smile anyway. 

Quickly, Niall launched into a story about how one of his teachers had called him out in class for talking too much and how he had finally met his roommate’s – Zayn, Harry remembered his name – girlfriend and how the food in London was too expensive and he was pretty sure that if he didn’t get a job soon he was going to starve. He rambled on as they loaded up the machines, both already finished with their drinks. Harry let him because he found it cute and endearing and loved listening to his voice. 

Eventually they settled down on their usual bench, arms brushing and knees touching just as much as they usually do, and Niall let Harry fill him in on his day. Harry talked about Liam and Louis and didn’t mention a single word about the perfectly good washer he had sitting at home. 

They spoke like that, easy and comfortable and the whole thing was entirely lovely, until they had to stop and move the clothes over to the dryers. 

Niall jumped up onto the bank of dryers, his eyes still not quite level with Harry’s even with the extra boost. Harry had never asked but he was pretty sure the other boy harbored some kind of fascination with climbing on things. 

There was a break in the conversation where the music coming from Niall’s headphones became clearer and Harry recognized the song from when they had first met. 

“Hey, that’s the song that you played for me on that first day.” Niall blinked in surprise before smiling a smile that stretched his lips and showed his teeth and made Harry’s stomach flutter. 

“Yeah, you remember it?” He plucked his mp3 from his pocket, raising the volume so it was more audible over the hum of the dryers. They were the only ones there that night so he doubted anyone would mind. 

_I tried to find a quiet place that we could go_   
_To help you make decisions_

Of course Harry remembered it. After hearing it that night he had added it to his itunes library at home and listened to it at least a thousand times because it reminded him of blue eyes and blonde hair and lithe fingers. 

“It’s a good song.”

_But I didn't find it easy to tell them apart_   
_With double vision_

Niall nodded, blue eyes meeting green and doing a very good impression of burrowing into his soul. Harry shifted, no longer standing beside the boy but in front of him instead. Niall didn’t say anything, just shifted his knees to accommodate Harry taking up the space between them. They were close: so close that all Harry could see was blue eyes and blonde lashes and tiny freckles. 

“I really like you, Niall,” he breathed. Niall visibly shuddered and Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. 

A small pink tongue darted out to moisten his lips before he replied, voice a bit shaky, “I really like you too, Harry.” 

_It's too late_   
_It's too late_

“Good.” His thumb ran across the blonde’s jawline, hand sweeping back and into his hair, fingers running small circles over the nape of his neck. “I’m going to kiss you now.” 

_You've got another one coming_   
_And it's going to be the same_

Niall barely got out a mumbled ‘okay’ before Harry’s lips were on his. It was sweet and slow and everything he ever thought it would be. They pulled back after a minute or so, lips wet and eyes hooded and Niall couldn’t help but let Harry’s name tumble from his lips and then they were kissing again. 

Harry’s hand gripped into his hair, angling his head in just the right way, his other hand wrapping around to rest on his lower back and drawing him in close enough so that their chests were pressed together and suddenly the kissing wasn’t so sweet as it was deep. Niall found that he didn’t mind, not with his own hand tangling itself in Harry’s curls, the other finding purchase on the other boy’s chest, fingers twisting in the fabric of his t-shirt. 

Niall breathed heavily out of his nose as his tongue found Harry’s, both boys clashing and sucking and biting in ways that left their heads reeling. Harry’s body surged against Niall’s making the smaller boy arch into him, his head bent back, the angle making it easier for Harry to kiss him the way that he wanted to. 

Niall couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, the sound vibrating up from his chest and making its way into Harry’s mouth, electrocuting his tongue. 

Harry pulled back, fingers falling from blonde hair and finding purchase on his hips instead, drawing their bodies apart and giving both of them some breathing room because really it was a bit early to be doing any of _that_. 

The blonde leaned forward, his head resting against the other’s collarbone as he tried to keep the smile off his face and marveled at how his lips tingled. He let out a shaky laugh, wiping damp palms down his jeans as his body buzzed, starting from Harry’s grip on his hips and working its way out. 

“I probably should have asked you this weeks ago,” Harry drawled out in that deep, slow voice that made Niall’s blonde lashes flutter and his thoughts fade. “Would you like to go out sometime?” 

Niall pulled back slowly, a crooked smile on his lips and finger tugging at messy curls. “Are you asking me on a date, Harry?” 

Both boys smiled as Harry kissed him again, a simple, chaste meeting of the lips that was more of an excuse to touch him again than anything else. “Yes, I am.”

“Good,” Niall echoed Harry’s words back at him, earning a chuckle from the brown haired boy. “I’d love to.” 

“There’s a diner down the street that’s still open if you’d like to go when we’re done here. You know,” he titled his head to the side, cocky little smile sliding across his face, “so we don’t feel like complete sluts for making out in a Laundromat.” 

Niall punched him in the shoulder, not hard enough to do any real damage, but hard enough to make Harry flinch anyway. “Tosser.” But he was smiling so he didn’t think the other boy found it the least bit insulting. “I actually had something to ask you tonight as well.” Harry cocked a brow in interest. “Zayn’s throwing a party at our place tomorrow night. I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.” 

“Are you asking me on a date, Niall?” The Irishman scrunched up his nose at the teasing lilt to the other boy’s voice, rolling his eyes before throwing up his own cocky smile. 

“Yes, I am.” 

Harry smiled at him, hands coming up to cup his face, thumbs moving in mesmerizing circles across his cheekbones. “Good.” 

And then he kissed him again.


End file.
